Portfolio for Massachusetts College of AAARRRRTT--- and Design

portfolio worthy? - I wanted my final to consist of a culmination of the semesters work, or for the most part. Now I don't want to look at another bowl of fruit, as long as I exist.

Family Postcards

I get overwhelmed when I see these bits of family history... postmarked: Floodwood MN, Swan River, Duluth. All the places of home talked about and lived in over a century ago. 

Trying to wrap things up and stay on course.

Last night I had an explosive idea to incorporate into my final!! It almost fell into place, but I decided to sleep on it and see what I thought in the morning. What a good idea that I did that. It's always to my demise and stressed state that plans seem to change at the worst stage of the game.

 If anything this final project has taught me how to stay on track. As bored as I am with these photos, I have to keep in mind that THIS IS NOT THE TIME to start something new.

This first picture shows my near death-

Chicken Wire!

Straight on photos don't really do these guys justice.

Strong intentions can quickly turn into a glassy uncaring stare at the end of the day--

I've run out of gumption. I'm running a marathon and I've hit mile twenty-one.

 "Keep your chin up, keep your clothes on". says mom tonight.

I'm not sure what that means.

Here's some cyanotypes of yours truly for all you fine folks out there viewing my humble blog. What shall my final be for this alt process class ... this? hmmm... coffee.

 

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Simply a response to living life - the brain impressed-

"Reading can be learned only because of the brain's plastic design, and when reading takes place, that individual brain is forever changed, both physiologically and intellectually." Proust and the Squid



As a child I would often spend my time up in my room creating frames out of clay. These frames were simple creations that I proudly birthed ... or so I thought. Tonight I was fiddling around in the garage with some chicken wire I had just acquired. (because every good artist needs to have chicken wire close by). Without thinking seriously what I was doing, I found myself pounding a square into the back of the frame. Then cutting a large x into the center of the wire I pealed back the parts and nailed them to the top of the wood.

Holy Cow! Flashback.

I suddenly remembered clearly that I had made a similar object for my mother years and years ago.

And here I was now, 15 years older staring at the same design. This was certainly not planned.

I like to build stuff. I like to experiment with mixing different mediums together and I guess wasting a lot of time and money on making mistakes. It is essential to waste time on perfecting craft.  But I don't waste my time finding metaphorical meanings out of anything, because in essence everything I see and touch does relate to me as it becomes filed into folders of my brain.


 Most everything I use in work seems to relate to personal past experiences. I used to raise chickens. And because of that decade of bird wonderland, I know exactly how wire works and bends. I know how burlap feels because my brothers and I used to fill pig troughs with feed from bags made out of such. I know how wood works, because I remember building forts out in the woods and ramps for the bike. But I am not talking about my childhood in this work as we can all see. Heck.. there's only a bowl of apples. A more common item was never seen on this blessed planet.

Let it be clear that I don't want this artwork to talk about my past.

 I simply am saying that given the chance, I am going to use materials I am comfortable with. They mean nothing other then that.

Like the brain learning to read, my art is a simple response to the life I have already lived. It's plasticity is a comfort to me.

I am in search of beauty, and will always be.